


Adoration

by coyotes



Category: BioShock
Genre: M/M, fluff... but in a fucked up way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2080851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyotes/pseuds/coyotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Atlas says "Would you kindly love me". </p>
<p>love<br/>/ləv/<br/>noun<br/>1.<br/>an intense feeling of deep affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adoration

**Author's Note:**

> a tiny thing -- i really wanted to add porn but the prompt that i filled this for didn't ask for it and i figured that might be rude, i might add some later depending now that i've posted it on here =W=

Atlas had his hand cupping his cheek when he’d said the words.

But as with every other command that flooded his thoughts it evaporated before he could hook onto it consciously, if that made any sense at all; trying to remember what he’d been commanded to do as he did it was like trying to stare directly at the squiggly lines that came into his vision occasionally; couldn’t do it. Always moved before he could remember.

Jack knew it was a command and his head buzzed with something anyway, something good and bright and warm and Jack felt himself tilting his face into Atlas’ hand. His skin felt different than what he’d been used to, some difference that was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t place coherently, so he just stooped to nuzzling his hand as heat rose in his cheeks and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

He’d normally felt so sick to his stomach when Atlas laughed at him but this time it was so different, he sounded like _Atlas_ and Atlas was here, not Fontaine, not the man that forced him to chase his own tail for his enjoyment, not the one that violently pushed him in the direction he was meant to go behind each little lie – Atlas. His friend. 

Atlas laughed and Jack tilted his eyes back up at him, parting his lips when he brushed the side of his face with a thumb. 

“Wasn’t so bad, was it now?” He mutters it, he mutters it and Jack’s stomach does flips that he sort of definitely loves the feel of and he’s not really sure what Atlas is talking about but he doesn’t mind being out of the loop. Not if it gets him whatever Atlas is giving him.

He’s being rather quiet as he watches Jack’s face, all things considering, just gauging something in his features instead of talking – but after a short moment of nothing but Atlas looking and Jack looking back Atlas slides his other hand to the side of Jack’s neck and rubs there with the pad of that thumb and Jack swears that his knees shake; Atlas grins and places his thumb just beneath Jack’s chin, tilts his head up enough for them to get solid eye contact again. 

Atlas leans in as if to kiss him and Jack shuts his eyes, knots his fingers together behind his back while his heart pounds in his ears and he can feel hot breath against his lips –

\-- Atlas brushes his nose against his. Jack opens his eyes but can’t bring himself to raise an eyebrow because Atlas is so close and all he can do is make a soft noise that sounds something like a ‘mph’ of disapproval. His cheeks are red and he can’t stop giving Atlas doe-eyes, he’s not even aware he’s doing it but it’s so painfully obvious what he’s feeling, all smitten wonder with confusion etched into the lines of his face – he ends up giving a resigned sigh.

The man pats his cheek and grins at the disgruntled look he gets in return. 

“Y’know, I’ve thought about this for a’while now. Wanted t’see you like y’were when you first came down here. Missed it. All head-over-heels before y’even saw my face.” Atlas says it with a certain fondness that Jack is _pretty_ sure you can’t fake and before he knows it he’s being dragged forward by the front of his sweater and he’s on his knees and Atlas has got himself seated in a recliner he’s so fond of with his legs on either side of Jack; compared to how they’d been before it doesn’t feel close enough and Jack’s surprised at how stressful and _wrong_ that is. 

He balances the palms of his hands over Atlas’ thighs and bends his legs enough to where he’s close enough to press their foreheads together. He bumps Atlas a tad too roughly and hovers there, looking for all the world like he has no clue what to do from that point on.

Atlas places a hand flat over the left side of his chest and pushes enough to keep him steady and upright, humming as Jack’s heart beats hard against his palm and Jack still continues to look yearning as ever.

“I love you,” he blurts out.

“Mm,” is all Atlas replies with and Jack can’t help but feel a little frustrated by that – so he does what he thinks he’s supposed to do, which is mash his lips against Atlas’ and kiss him, hands coming off of Atlas in turn to settle on either side of his face as he brings a knee up between Atlas’ legs to keep it as comfortable as he can considering his height, doing his best to force Atlas into opening his mouth and letting Jack properly express everything he’s getting at here.

“I love you,” he repeats with his lips touching Atlas’ with every word, “I love you, I love you,” and each time he sounds more and more confused, as if he’s not sure why it’s dripping out of his mouth like a leaky faucet but it’s somehow… comforting to say, taking one stone off his shoulders each time he says it. 

Eventually he gets off of the floor altogether and crowds up the recliner by sitting in Atlas’ lap, repeating his mantra over and over again even as his lips are numb and he’s speaking barely over a whisper with his head resting at the crook of Atlas’ neck and shoulder. 

He grasps at Atlas’ clothes between his shoulder blades and holds him there as the ‘I love you’s turn to ‘I need you’s and he’s tearing up over Atlas’ shirt, mumbling about how he’s always needed him and he _loves_ him and he’s the only friend he had that actually cared, actually listened and helped him and nudged him through everything, Atlas is running his hands smoothly up and down Jack’s back as he clutches onto him like some overgrown child; or maybe a big, naïve lapdog.

“I love you,” he manages to pull out of himself one more time with all the force and emotion he can muster, that Atlas saved him and he’s so horribly grateful and relieved that he’s still here after all this time before Atlas quiets him with a very firm, “Hush,” before he cards his fingers through Jack’s hair and Jack can’t help but melt into the touch. It’s too easy to fall in love with the man all over again, too easy to fall right back into his old habits. 

Too easy when there’s warm hands sliding up under his sweater, too easy when thumbs move in slow circles at his hips, far too easy when Atlas kisses at his neck and just beneath his ear – right at the spot that would make Jack weak in the knees if he were on his feet, too easy to lay there with his chest pressed against Atlas’ and let his eyes flutter shut. Too easy. Jack was too easy.


End file.
